Snow
by Wesfan1234
Summary: Wesley’s world changes after he is in a motorcycle accident. Season Two story.
1. The Accident

Title: Snow

Summary: Wesley's world changes after he is in a motorcycle accident.

Rating: PG13, for language and adult situations

Pairing(s): Wesley/Cordelia, and maybe one or two more

Disclaimer: All the characters in my fic belong to someone else (Joss, Mutant Enemy, Fox, etc., etc.). Maybe one day I'll write characters like this and someone will want to do fanfics (I wish).

Note: This story takes place in Season Two after "Dear Boy" but before "Guise Will Be Guise". In my episode guide, these two episodes aired late October and early November, before all the Darla stuff went into overdrive and Angel fired everyone. This is sort of my answer to a holiday fic.

Chapter One—The Accident

Wesley's head lulled back and forth, tipping to the side occasionally while he sat at his desk. He hoped soon that someone would save him from the torment, that someone would ride in and tell him to get off his feet, just to actually get some sleep. He'd been up almost twenty-four hours, mostly reading, definitely researching. If something didn't happen soon, he would be doomed.

"Here, before you fall over and break something."

"Bless you," Wesley groaned as he took a sip of coffee.

Cordelia had saved him from that uncertain doom. He had almost fallen asleep on an ancient tome. Sacrilege it would have been. He might have mussed the pages beyond repair.

Then he proceeded to gag as he tasted the foul concoction that she had brewed. Where was Gunn when you needed him? Off helping out his old neighborhood, that was where. So he was stuck with Cordelia, researching a demon that Angel had chanced to encounter. Said vampire was up in his room, healing from tangling with the beast Wesley was now researching. And he wasn't having much luck.

"God, it's not that bad," Cordelia shot back.

"Don't worry. I need it strong."

"Pfft," she answered, turning to face her computer.

Cordelia sighed as she got down to work, Wesley noticed. Ordinarily she would have chided him more about his comments. She wasn't her usual, sarcastic self. Maybe it was Angel being injured? No, he thought, Angel seemed to gather his share of cuts and bruises. So did Wesley, for that matter. The only one that seemed immune for the most part was Gunn. Or maybe they just hadn't encountered that many demons since the street fighter joined their merry little band.

Flipping the pages of the tome, Wesley went over again and again the facts of the case. The demon that had attacked Angel, unprovoked, must have been at least eight feet tall, according to Gunn. It had a wicked tail that had caught Angel on the head more than one time, and it had the strength of ten men. Gunn had also mentioned that his hubcap axe hadn't managed to penetrate its thick hide. Angel had also been on the receiving end of very sharp claws. It had taken Cordelia quite some time to clean those out once he and Gunn had returned to the hotel.

So, there was a demon that was eight feet tall, very sharp claws, wicked tail, thick hide, and had the strength to take Angel and Gunn down. Only Gunn had been taken down in the first few seconds, leaving Angel to defend the both of them, inevitably causing the most damage to the vampire. The only injuries that Gunn had sustained were a bruised tailbone and ego.

Another glance at Cordelia still had Wesley worrying. She rubbed her temples like a headache, or God forbid, a vision was coming on. Since he was the only one available to answer the call, he hoped that it was just a headache.

The visions were killing her, slowly, was his only conclusion. He didn't know when or where or how, he only could surmise that eventually the pain would become too much for her to handle. She didn't let on that he knew, only in the throws of a vision did she let her guard down. He didn't know how much longer her body could take on such extreme pain and not shut down completely.

"Cordelia, you should rest for a while," he quietly told her as they sat in silence.

"Huh? Oh, yeah. In a minute," she said to him as she scrolled down a screen.

"I mean it. You've been working much too long."

"So says the guy who hasn't slept in like forever."

"I'm not the one who receives the visions. They must take a lot out of you."

"Yeah, well. That's the deal, now isn't it."

Wesley sipped more coffee as he tried to figure out a way to get Cordelia to rest and solve the demon problem at the same time.

"Let me take you home," he finally announced, shutting his last book with a resounding thud.

"Nah. We need to be in research mode."

Now he knew something wasn't right. She never wanted to research. She complained about research, even more than Gunn and Angel did. As she always said to him, "I'm Vision Girl. You're Book Guy". The division of labor had always been that cut and dry. He wished just once that it were the other way around.

"Maybe we both should get some rest. I need some of my books from home. Why don't I drop you off?"

Cordelia's glazed eyes turned towards his. "I'm pooped. You just have to promise me that you'll rest."

"I will," he lied, crossing his fingers under the table. But he could use a quick shower and change of clothes.

"Let's go, Wes," she told him as she grabbed her purse.

Wesley wrote Angel a note, telling him that he would be back shortly and that he was taking Cordelia home also. No use worrying the vampire or Gunn when he arrived back from his errand.

Wesley handed Cordelia his extra helmet, starting the motorcycle while she crossed her purse over the front of her so it wouldn't fall off. Climbing on, she securely wrapped her arms around his torso. He would never forget how wonderful it felt every time she did that. She had ridden with him on many occasions, and each time he still got a small thrill of how close she would get to him.

Driving through the early morning light, the brisk breeze woke him up, sending his mind into overdrive again. Thinking about what book he would consult next, he didn't see the car coming the opposite direction. Before he could react, the car skidded, narrowly avoiding a collision with him. Losing control of the motorcycle, he managed not to flip the two of them, only send the thing sideways. Just before they both hit the pavement, Cordelia's arms tightened around him, holding on for dear life. Thoughts for her safety were the last thing he remembered before the world turned black.

TBC

Next: Wesley regains consciousness and nothing is the same.


	2. Wake Up

Chapter Two – Wake Up

"Wes. Wes. Wake up, honey. Are you OK?"

Wesley couldn't see the face that was leaning over him until it came closer and into a little more focus. He knew exactly to whom the face belonged; she just wasn't clear in his eyes. Until she placed his glasses back on his face. As he tried to move, Cordelia placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Don't try and move. The ambulance will be here in no time. You scared me there."

He saw that she didn't have any apparent injuries, making him feel somewhat better. The memory of a car flashed through his brain, making him turn his head sideways to see what, if any damage anyone else had received.

"What happened?"

"Some guy ran a red light. If you hadn't thought on your feet, we'd be plastered all over the pavement. Only a couple of scrapes. But you've been out for a few minutes."

Wesley finally noticed the paramedic standing over him.

"I'm all right, Cordelia. Honestly."

Slowly, Wesley sat up on the pavement. Somewhere he had lost his helmet. So had Cordelia. She had streaks of tears running down her face. He brought his fingers up to brush them away. Smiling down at him, she held his hand in place over her cheek.

"That was way too scary," she whispered.

"I'm really fine," he tried to convince her.

Before he had time to take a breath, her head descended, placing a light kiss on his lips. They were warm and soft on top of his. Sighing, she rested her forehead on his.

She was just scared, he thought. Scared that he was injured. She couldn't still feel anything towards him other than friendship. She had done nothing to indicate that she was still interested in him. Of course, the last kiss they had shared would have melted the polar icecaps if it had continued. Or he would have turned to jello in her arms. He thanked his lucky stars that time he had done it right.

The sounds of the ambulance and the paramedics broke up their time together. By the time Wesley was released from the hospital, it was midday.

"Let me call Angel. Tell him to pick us up."

"Cordelia, the sun," he pointed out.

"Yeah, usually the sun is up at about one o'clock in the afternoon," she joked with him.

Only he wasn't available. Gunn pulled up in his beat up old pickup about twenty minutes later.

"It better have been just a scratch, Cordy."

"I'm fine, Gunn," Wesley told the man as he and Cordelia climbed in.

"That big scrape down your hand says otherwise. Cordy says that you were the man though."

"Excuse me?" Wesley wanted to know what Cordelia told him.

"That you saved her life. Might mean that she owes you big time, dog."

Cordelia actually blushed. Wesley had never seen her blush, ever. He hoped that Gunn was not referring to what he thought the man was referring to or he would have to have words with Gunn.

"No, no. Quite all right. No one owes anyone anything," he said quickly, hoping that he hadn't embarrassed Cordelia any more.

She reached over and took his hand in hers, squeezing lightly.

"Always the gentleman," Gunn said as he drove to the hotel. "Or at least until you get her alone."

"Gunn," Wesley shouted. "I'll have you know, that is not how I would treat her."

"Not from what she's told me."

"Oh Gunn, stuff it," Cordelia answered back without much venom.

An awkward silence enveloped the cab of the truck, until they arrived back at the hotel. Wesley followed the other two inside the gates of the hotel grounds. Once upon a time, the small garden there had been lovely when someone had tended it. A few roses still did bloom, although no one took that much care of them. Only when he stepped through the gate, the place was in full bloom. Roses, jasmine, lavender, it smelled like heaven. And it was not the way he had seen it eight hours before. Stopping in his tracks, he stood and looked over the transformation. Something was not right.

"Hey, Wes," a voice said behind him.

"Sun," Wesley shouted as he turned to see Angel, standing in full sunlight.

The vampire wasn't exploding in a fireball, or smoking, or turning to dust. He had on a short sleeve t-shirt and gardening gloves.

"You, we, I . . ., I have to sit down," Wesley stammered.

He's not a vampire, he's not a vampire, Wesley's brain chanted over and over. Or he had the Gem of Amara on. Or he shanshued finally. How long was he really unconscious?

Angel took one arm as Cordelia tugged on the other. Wesley could feel heat radiate off of Angel as they led him to the stairs, out of the sun.

"You're human," Wesley finally said as he sat down with a thump.

"Uh, yeah, Wes. Are you sure you shouldn't be in the hospital still? Cordy said that you were fine."

"I'm not fine," he mumbled. Not fine indeed, he contemplated.

"We are takin' you back, man. Head injuries can be serious. Remember when Alonna got knocked in the head by that baseball?"

"Didn't she get stitches from that?" Cordelia pointed out.

"She's dead. Your sister's dead," Wesley muttered, thinking that something was definitely wrong with the picture.

"Uh, Wes. She's not dead. You saw her yesterday. Gave her that recipe for blueberry scones. Remember?"

He didn't remember any of this. Angel was human. Gunn's sister was alive. Cordelia looked at him with tears in her eyes. Reality was warped. Or he was still unconscious and this was the way his brain was dealing with the trauma.

"It's all fuzzy," he answered convincingly. He didn't want them to suspect that this world he created in his brain wasn't real.

"You're tellin' me. Alonna cooking? It's like Cordy's coffee."

"Still bad," Wesley said as he gripped his head tight.

"Hey. Tell Mr. Cheap Skate over there to buy better beans," Cordelia told them.

Some things hadn't changed, thank God.

"It's called frugal. We can't exactly afford Starbuck's beans."

"Well, it's the dollar store ones for us, bucko. So no complainin' about my coffee making skills," Cordelia pointed out.

"Looks like party time out here and no one invited me," came a shout from the door.

Wesley's head swam at the thought that his brain was making this all up. Especially the voice that was attached to the owner that was standing at the door of the hotel.

"Man, don't tell me that in addition to takin' down the Big Dog, you cracked that hard head of yours open? Cuz, I just thought it would never happen."

"Faith," Angel admonished the girl.

"Sorry Bossman. Just playin' with him. Get in here so I can see the damage."

"She's in jail," he whispered as he arose from the steps. "This isn't happening. I want to wake up now."

"He's muttering to himself again. Is that the first sign of a concussion?" Gunn asked Cordelia.

"The doctor did say that if there's any strange behavior, to bring him back."

"No, no. No more hospital," Wesley announced, just wanting to wait it out and wake up in his own world.

"Do you know how much it's gonna cost to fix your ride?" Faith asked as they all entered the hotel.

Only it wasn't the drab, dreary hotel that he knew. This one had plants, and carpets, and color. Something he and Cordy had wanted Angel to do. Angel had wanted to leave it as it was. Less to clean up when a demon came knocking on their door.

"Faith, will you stop. He might have a concussion," Cordelia chided the woman.

"Yeah, he's a tough SOB. Takes enough punishment from me."

Angel snickered at her comment. Wesley's eyes went wide with that. Was Faith the bad seed in this reality? Cordelia peeled Wesley out of his leather jacket, hanging it up on a coat rack. Angel disappeared into his office while Faith made her way upstairs.

"Hey, I've gotta pick up Alonna from school. You be OK with him?" he asked Cordelia.

"I'm not a child, Gunn," Wesley replied for her.

"I know. Be good for Cordy though."

And he was being treated as such.

"Gunn?" Cordelia started. "Go away. Tell Alonna I said hi."

"Will do. Take care of his ass. Remember what I said? Make her give you something special," Gunn snickered as he left.

Wesley sat on one of the sofas, wondering how he was going to wake himself up. How does one go about waking oneself? Or he could be in a coma? Or dead, God forbid? Portal? Another dimension he flew into when he crashed? But where was his Cordelia?

"Babe, why don't you go upstairs and rest?"

"Am I supposed to rest, Cordelia? I have no idea."

She looked at him with sympathy in her eyes. Usually when he was hurt, she threw bandages his way and told him to take care of it. When she did play nursemaid, she grumbled the whole time.

"Gunn's right. I'm yours now, to do whatever you wish with me," Cordelia purred in his ear.

Shivers ran down his spine with thoughts of what he could do with Cordelia. But no. It would be wrong. He really did need to wake up.

"You don't have to pay me back."

Slowly, Cordelia climbed into his lap, straddling his middle. Wesley sucked in his breath, praying that no one would see what she was doing. Or that maybe someone would save him.

"Try and stop me," she whispered as her mouth teased his lips.

"We shouldn't do this," he tried to stop her.

"Sorry. I've been waiting to do this all day. You're not getting away from me, mister."

As Cordelia rubbed her hands through his hair, she placed light kisses on his forehead and cheeks. The room was becoming entirely too warm for Wesley. He almost yelped as she sucked in his earlobe. And the faint action that her hips had started performing wasn't helping matters, one bit.

"We need to stop," Wesley panted out as Cordelia's hands started to stroke his chest.

"Not yet. Don't worry. The boss is usually fine, just so we don't take any clothes off."

"God, you people. Get a room," Faith yelled as she came bounding down the steps.

"We already have a room," Cordelia shot back. "I'm just trying to convince him to use it."

Faith laughed and waved at them as she exited the building. In no way would Wesley take advantage of this Cordelia. The repercussions he couldn't fathom. Slowly, he pulled her hands away from his body.

"We need to talk," he announced while he held her hands steady.

"Uh, yeah. If it's about the amount I spent on that dress, in my defense it was on sale, honey. You know me," she begged.

She called him honey, again. And he did know his Cordelia. She would never call him anything endearing like that.

"No. It's not that. There's something else. Something a little more serious. Maybe we should call Angel in here."

"Wes, you're scaring me. Again, for the second time today. What gives?" Tears formed in her eyes and she gasped. "You're not breaking up with me, are you?"

Oh great. He was actually dating Cordelia? The things his mind has invented astounded him. Not in his wildest dreams would Cordy ever date him. The flirtation in Sunnydale had been just that, flirting. Until that fateful, excruciatingly painful kiss they had shared.

"No, no. No breaking up. I just feel that there's something not quite right."

"I knew it. We shouldn't have been so hot to trot to get you out of that hospital."

Maybe she had it right, he thought. Maybe if he went back, they would look into what was going on and conclude that he was either comatose or insane.

"Oh, baby. We should go back, now."

"Hey, where are ya goin'? I just got back," another voice shouted out from the door.

Wesley turned to find a man, not too much younger than he was, dressed in a jacket and blue jeans. His black hair and bright blue eyes stood out against his pale skin. The Irish lilt in his voice was unmistakable. He knew of this man, he just didn't really know him personally.

"Doyle, I'm glad you're here. Wes isn't feeling right. I think we should take him back to the hospital."

"Faith told me you took a tumble," Doyle answered back.

The man was dead. He had died right in front of Angel and Cordelia.

"What day is it?" Wesley asked out of the blue.

"Uh, it's Thursday," Cordelia slowly told him.

"No, the date, the date," Wesley hurriedly wanted to know.

"It's December 9th."

In his reality it was only the beginning of November. One would think that his brain would keep the same date too.

"Year?"

"2004," Cordelia answered, worry etched on her face.

Wrong year, he groaned inwardly. It was only the year 2000. So not only was he in the wrong month, he was in the wrong year also.

"Tell me how long we've been in this hotel, doing the business that we do?" he asked her pointedly.

"We've been here for three years come January." They had just moved in. "We're a detective agency." Now that was the same. "Our last case was that kidnapping. Remember?" No kidnapping in his reality.

Looking around the room, there was no weapons cabinet to speak of. His library didn't sit on the shelves off in the distance. People who should have been dead, or in prison, were employed by the agency. He was dating Cordelia, maybe even living with her. And Angel wasn't a vampire.

"I don't remember," he replied hesitantly. "I don't belong here. Send me back."

Cordelia looked at him like he was crazy. Maybe he was.

"Angel," Cordelia yelled. "Angel. Now."

TBC

Next: Wesley thinks he is going crazy. The gang get another case.

Author notes: Much shorter chapters than my previous fics, because this one will not be as long. I hope I've whetted everyone's appetites. So please read and review! Oh, and another thing, roses do bloom in Southern California in December. They'd bloom all year round if they weren't pruned. I know, because I have about forty of those babies ready to be handled. I'd rather write!

Thanks go out to Pylea Princess, SPIKEANDKELSIE, Imzadi, Cayt, pari106 and everyone else. I was in the mood for a holiday fic. This is it!

Answers to questions:

Imzadi—Snow comes in before all the major Darla business and before Guise Will Be Guise. Then it goes AU after that (of course it does, since everyone has changed).

Cayt—Cordy's not going to be as snippy because this will be the "other" Cordy. I've never been able to replicate that back and forth with her. It's really hard to do. But I like it when she's sweet.

Pari106—I miss season two. There are so many great episodes. I really liked how all the characters were handled in that season, including the Angel broodiness.


	3. Living in a New World

Author note: Really quick chapter. I haven't read it through the dozen times like I always do, because I wanted to get it posted quicker. And this is dedicated to Imzadi. Happy times!

Chapter Three – Living in a New World

Angel came out of his office the same time Lindsey McDonald walked through the front doors.

"What do you need?" Angel asked Cordelia.

At the same time, Lindsey started to speak. "I need to talk to all of you."

"Something's wrong with Wes," Cordelia cut in.

"He needs to go back to the hospital," Doyle added.

"There's something more pressing," Lindsey said.

They all talked at the same time, making Wesley's headache hurt all the more. He just wanted to lie down and let it all slip away.

"Could everyone please be quiet for just one moment?" he told everyone, raising his voice.

Wesley rarely raised his voice in his world. By the look of shock on everyone else's faces, he obviously rarely did it here too. But they all stayed silent.

"There's much that I have to discuss with you. Let me start off by saying . . . ," Wesley began.

"No, you don't understand. Wilson escaped. He'll obviously want to pay you a visit."

"What do you mean he escaped? I thought Kate had him under wraps?" Angel asked.

Wesley had no earthly idea to what Angel was referring. By the look on Cordelia's face, this Wilson must be bad news. They all turned to Wesley, looking at him for something. He hoped it wasn't answers.

"Wes, man, we need to figure out a good place to hide you until Wilson is caught," Doyle responded to the staring.

"Who's Wilson?" was the obvious question that he asked.

"Um, Wes, honey, the kidnapping case. You caught him. Don't you remember?"

Cordelia was talking nonsense. But in her version of reality, it must be true. They were detectives, and they caught real, human criminals. She patted his hand gently, trying to reassure him of what he didn't know.

"You tracked him down. Cornered him in that hotel with the little girl. Went in and took him down," Doyle explained.

"Without back-up," Angel growled. "You could have been hurt."

"He wasn't. Until now," Cordelia grimaced. "I'm thinkin' hospital is in order for Mr. Selective Memory here."

Everyone agreed. All the people that were in the room went to the hospital with him. By the time he was done, he'd been probed, prodded, and poked every which way and in practically every cavity of his body. He didn't want anyone else to touch him, ever again.

They found nothing. Absolutely, positively nothing.

No head trauma, no lingering concussion, no brain damage, nothing. He was fit as a fiddle, the doctor announced, who then gave him a card to see a psychiatrist. He wouldn't bloody well see a psychiatrist until he was absolutely sure that something was definitely wrong.

Definitely wrong hit the next night, but not before a confrontation from this world's Cordelia.

Things had been going swimmingly, at least from his standpoint. Cordelia had waited on him hand and foot. Had massaged his shoulders, read to him, fed him his favorite dinner in the whole world, even tucked him into bed. It was when she joined him that he flinched. He hadn't meant to flinch. Typical reaction on his part. Obviously not a reaction from this world's Wesley.

"Wes, what's wrong? Do you not find me attractive anymore? Oh, I know, it's her, isn't it?"

Cordelia sat up in the bed beside him, wearing nothing but a slinky nightgown. Whoever she was referring to couldn't look any better than she did right at that moment.

"It's Faith, isn't it?"

He stood corrected.

"No, no. Of course not. Why do you think that it's Faith?" he stammered out.

"I know her. And I know you. The history there. What's a girl supposed to do?"

Oh, good God the two of them had history together. Well, they had history together in his world too, just not very pleasant history for him to look back on.

"Do you know me, Cordelia? I gather that you think that you do. I assure you that my thoughts are clearly in this room, right this instant, on you."

Cordelia's shoulders slumped a little, letting some of the tension she had been holding herself up with out. He could tell all of that because his Cordelia did the same exact thing when she was freaking out, as she so often told him.

"But I would like you to sleep elsewhere. Or I'll go elsewhere, if you'd like," he managed to get out of his mouth.

The look of shock on her face was classic. He had turned her down. Her, Cordelia, Queen C, one of the most beautiful, desirable women that he had ever kissed. He had turned her down after she offered herself to him.

"No, um, that's OK. I can go sleep on the couch. You just stay here."

She slowly backed off the bed, looking as if she was ready to cry. He almost called her back to apologize profusely. Instead, she turned and jumped across the bed to him, sending a punch that rattled his jaw. Unfortunately, it still didn't knock any sense into his frazzled brain.

"If you think for one second that I will let her win, you've got another thing coming, buster."

With that, she swung her legs, oh, so long and lovely legs off the bed and strolled out of the room, slamming the door home for emphasis. The breath that he had been holding rushed out almost choking him. He sputtered a little as he took some deep, deep breaths to calm his racing heart.

Getting up to go over to the bath, he focused his sight on the mirror to see how much damage she had committed. The face he saw staring back at him looked harder somehow, much more world weary, in fact even older than he thought that he had looked. The scruffy beard and appearing wrinkles around his eyes did nothing to dispel his musings on how much he had really changed. His hair was even much shorter. He had been here for only a day or so and his whole look had changed? He must be losing his mind, completely.

"I've gone off my rocker. That's the only explanation," he said to himself, not expecting anyone to reply.

"Yeah, well, welcome to the club. Mr. Insane-O Guy appeared more times than I could count."

Cordelia had reappeared back in his room. Only this time, she was different too. Much like he was different. Gone was the long, flowing tresses, to be replaced by shorter, curler, somehow more self-assured Cordelia hair.

"Don't say it. I know. The hair. Can't trust those lawyers to keep things the way they should be."

Wesley just shook his head ruefully at her. Who the hell was this and where were the other two Cordelias.

"Who are you?"

"Cordelia, you dumbass. Get your butt in gear, for God's sake."

"For what, may I ask?"

"You have choices to make. But not right now. Right now, I want you to experience this world. See what you like, what you don't like. Then I'll come back and we'll talk. Got it?"

Got what, he thought? Maybe this Cordelia could hit him also. Would another version appear if she did?

"So you want me to act normal here and then you'll come back and ask me questions?"

"Well, duh. At least you answered it back without a dissertation. That's an improvement."

He slowly made his way over to the new version of Cordelia. She looked like Cordelia, she certainly acted like his Cordelia, not like the one in this reality.

"You haven't figured it out yet, have you, Mr. I'm-Way-Too-Smart-For-My-Pants?"

Wesley mouthed her new name for him back, perplexed by her nomenclature. Right at that moment he was wearing his pajama bottoms and nothing else.

"I must not be smart enough. Please enlighten me, if you would."

"Touch me," she instructed him to do.

"So you can slug me back. I don't think I will."

He pulled back slightly as her hands went to her hips.

"I am not going to hit you. God, you can be such an idiot at times. Just swing out at me then."

He couldn't hit Cordelia. Was she mad? Insane? So he swung out lightly with his palm, making sure that if he made contact, she wouldn't be injured in the least bit. His hand passed right through.

"What, what just happened?" he stammered out.

"You know, I always wondered that if you sat in front of those books too long, that this would happen. Total, absolute cluelessness," she yelled back at him. "I'm a freakin' ghost, you asshole."

That much he had figured out. And to be a ghost, one would have to be . . .

"You're dead."

"Give the man a prize."

He tried not to display a look of shock, but by the way Cordelia was looking at him, she really didn't want him to keel over and die from it. She wanted his attention.

"I, uh, when, how, why?"

"Not questions that I can answer right now. Now, can you do this for me? Live in this world for a while?"

She knew exactly who and what he was, why he had been transported to this different world.

"I don't belong here. I want to go back to my world."

"Wes. Do you trust me? I mean, Cordelia? Do you trust Cordelia? Your Cordelia?"

"Yes, completely."

One of her eyebrows quirked up high as she shook her head side to side. "What I wouldn't do to have this Wesley back. The sweet, unassuming, not racked by guilt Wes that I loved so much. Before all the mess happened."

"I'm guilty?"

"Of too much and not enough. And I know that I make no sense right now, but you have to trust me. Live here, see the world the way it should have been, or the way it could be. Please, for me."

This Cordelia was begging him to live a normal, non-demon filled life. All of his friends and enemies (who seemed to be friends now) were normal beings. They all worked for doing good in the world. What more could he wish for?

"I didn't wish for anything, now did I?"

"No. No wishing. No vengeance demons around. Although, later, you might wanna look that up. Strike that. Not gonna give you ideas. So, are we clear?"

"Not so crystal. How much should I live this life that you've given me?"

"As much or as little as you like."

"Am I supposed to look for something, some kind of sign or prophecy?"

Cordelia threw her hands up with disgust. "Enough with the prophecies. You think you'd learned your lesson. Oh, wait. Not yet. I need to keep my big mouth shut. So, agreed?"

What else could he do? It didn't look like anyone could be hurt from whathe was doing. His friends surrounded him, with additional surprises like Doyle and Faith. And in this world Cordy seemed to care for him, unlike in his world where they were just friends. That was something he wished he could change in his world, but he wouldn't let the ghost Cordy know that.

"I don't have much of a choice, now do I?"

"You will, Wes. You will."

Cordelia blinked out of existence just as fast as she had appeared. Hallucinations did happen to people with concussions, didn't they? But it all seemed too real. Ghost Cordy was too much like his Cordy. He would tread carefully in this world until she reappeared again to tell him what he wanted to know.

* * *

Creeping downstairs the next morning, Wesley made his way to the coffee pot, only to notice that it was empty. Thank God Cordelia hadn't made it yet. He quickly filled it up with water and put the grounds in the filter and started it bubbling. Maybe the rich caffeine would clear his head more.

"Hey, and I thought that I was stealthy," Faith called from behind him.

"Oh, well, yes. I just needed a jolt this morning."

He rubbed his hands over his stubbly cheeks, having forgotten to shave yet again this morning. It seemed that this Wesley didn't shave so often. It itched fiercely. How could one get used to it?

"You usually aren't the one to drink coffee around here, Princess Margaret. You sure you don't want me to boil you some water or somethin'?" Faith asked him, voice going husky on the last few words, or was it his imagination that it had.

"Coffee will be delightful," he replied with a little squeak.

"Sounds like you're comin' down with somethin'. Want me to . . . ," Faith started as she made her way over to him, brushing past him on the way to the phone, "call Cordelia?"

"Oh, we, um, sure. I mean, if that's what you want. That would be fine," he said, the last sentence a rush.

"Man, you really need to take some time off. You really look like shit."

And he felt like shit too. Faith dialed whatever number she knew for Cordelia, but got no answer. "Not answering. Sit down, Wes. You look a little pale."

If he put two and two together, this Faith and the other him must have shared something intimate. The look in her eyes was unmistakable. She had that look several times in Sunnydale, but he had pointedly ignored them all, mostly because she was his slayer, and definitely because she was underage. Mostly.

Although her clothes weren't as revealing as they were in Sunnydale, they were still tight and still left not too much to his imagination. He had to get out of that room before he embarrassed himself.

"You know, I'll just go and look for Cordelia. Get out of your way, Faith."

"My way? Wes, this is your office. Whoa, that head trauma must be worse than we all thought. You, Angel, bosses?" Faith shook her head like he was supposed to remember this very important fact. Then he saw the small picture of himself and Cordelia at the corner of the neat and tidy desk. It must be his desk. While the other desk on the other side of the room, the one with the mess on top of it, must be Angel's.

"Oh, right. Now you see why I need that coffee," he jested, still not earning her confidence.

Faith started to back out the door, like she was in a hurry to find something or someone. "I'll just go track down Cordelia. Or maybe Angel. Hell, I'd take Doyle right now, not much use for the shrimp, but I'd take him anyway."

She smiled at him like he was one of those escaped convicts from prison (oh, right, just like she was in his world, only not escaped thank you very much) or that he was crazy, off his rocker, going downhill in front of her eyes.

"Hey, what's up, man?" Gunn yelled from the front door.

"Oh, thank you fuck," Faith muttered under her breath as she kept backing away. "Wes here is actin' a bit funny. Why don't you just talk to him while I go find Cordy?"

Faith patted Gunn on the behind and fled up the stairs.

"What'd you say to her? Aliens taking over your brain or somethin', cuz that would be just really disgusting."

"She seems to think that I'm from another planet. I made coffee. Is that strange?"

"You made coffee? Hell, no. Just as long as Cordy didn't get her mitts on it, I'll take it where I can get it."

He poured Gunn a cup and sat talking with him about whatever newest video game he had rented the last time they played, which could have been a very long time ago in this universe.

"Crash Bandicoot is coming out with a newer version," Gunn started to say, but was interrupted by Cordelia running down the stairs.

"Did you hit your head again? Faith said that you made coffee. And that you're talking nonsense, again."

He smiled back at Cordelia, like he didn't have a care in the world. He was rewarded with a room-lighting smile back. That didn't change from one version of Cordy to the next.

"Why are you smiling at me?" she finally asked when he didn't stop.

"Because today is the first day of the rest of my life."

Gunn snickered and got up to leave. "That's my cue to leave. See y'all later, man." Gunn waved goodbye at them and strode out the front door.

"I wanted to apologize for last night. I don't know where my head was. I really am sorry to put you through all of that," Wesley told her.

"It's OK. Just don't do it again. Are we good?"

"We are absolutely perfect," he said as he reached out to softly touch her face.

"All right, break it up. No PDA's when I'm in the room," another familiar voice shouted from across the room.

Kate walked into the hotel, gun strapped to her hip. In this reality, she was still a cop, while in his reality, she was still a cop, but not as happy as she looked right in front of him now.

"Did you get it?" Cordelia gushed.

"You should see it," Kate squealed back.

Kate Lockley squealed. Now that was definitely a first.

"I wanna see it. Where is it?" Cordelia wanted to know.

"Wait, wait. I'll bring it in. Stay right there," Kate said as she ran back outside.

Wesley stayed silent, just so Cordelia didn't think he didn't know what in blazes the two women were conversing about. Not like he did in his own reality either. Women most of the time perplexed him. Probably was why he hardly ever dated. Tripping over one's own two feet precluded asking most women out on a date. Klutzy, stammering Wesley may be cute to his Cordelia, but it didn't get him dates.

Not that he needed to worry about dates here with warm and willing Cordy. God, if she saw him now, she'd probably smack him for the lurid thoughts racing through his, well, brain.

"I see that look on your face," Cordelia purred.

"Wh, what look?" he stuttered out.

"That please kiss me before I explode look?"

He had that kind of look? Was he blind? Of course, he didn't know what he looked like at that moment. But Cordelia did. She yanked him to her and set about to try and devour him in one gigantic, warm, torturous kiss. She pressed all of herself against his front, making even his ears red. When she grabbed his head to angle in for a better fit, he groaned in pleasure, then wrapped his own arms tight.

"Let him go, Cordy. My dress, my dress," Kate called out, having come back in the room without either one of them knowing.

"Sorry. He looked way too yummy to not take a taste," Cordelia told Kate.

Wesley turned around so that the two couldn't see his reaction. He put his fist in his mouth so that they couldn't see or hear him wanting to yell at the top of his lungs that the kiss he had just received from Cordelia was the hottest kiss on record (oh, well his record and it wasn't all that extensive).

"Lindsey's gonna want you to shave, Wes," Kate spoke up as the two women oohed and aahed over a dress.

It was white, he saw as he turned back after having gained some semblance of control. So he put two and two together and came up with wedding, Kate, mostly likely Lindsey as the groom. Then he snickered. Kate had to be taller than the lawyer was. He didn't know why that was a tad bit funny, it was just that in his world, Lindsey was evil and Kate hated everything about the demon world. And she could probably kick Lindsey's ass. Much like Faith could kick his any time she wanted. Oh give it up, Pryce, he thought. Cordelia could kick his ass too. He was such a ponce.

"Shave?" he managed to get out.

"Yeah. Although I think you look kind of hot like that."

Wesley almost snorted in amusement at being called hot by Kate Lockley. She wouldn't give him the time of day back in his reality. And he thought there she was kind of hot too. He wouldn't mention that fact right then.

"Yeah, one hot puppy," Cordelia winked at him.

"Oh, sheesh, you guys. You could warn a man when you're gonna start throwing all those cute nicknames around. Makes me sick to my stomach," Angel said as he trotted down the stairs. "Doesn't anyone work around here?"

Work, work. What was he supposed to do with that?

"Any new cases that I should be worried about?" Wesley asked nonchalantly.

"Gunn is on one right now. Messy divorce case. But it should be wrapped up shortly. Doyle is looking into that racetrack fixing scandal. Who knows how long that one will last? You just wrapped up the biggest one, so it's looking pretty clear right now."

"You promised, you guys. We have a wedding coming up, remember?" Cordelia said, hands on her hips.

"I don't make the rules. And I'm not jinxing it either," Angel wanted the others to know.

He poured himself a cup of coffee, nodding in approval as he tasted it. "Beat Cordy down this morning?" he said out the side of his mouth to Wesley.

"Indeed."

Angel smiled and raised his mug to the ladies. "Another day at the office."

"Yes. Another day at the office," Wesley mimicked.

Could he keep up this charade for long? If Cordelia kept smiling at him the way she was right that instant, maybe he just could.

TBC

Next: The wedding is fast approaching for Lindsey and Kate. And so is Christmas.

Author notes: OMG, is this taking longer than I thought. The holidays sure have messed with my schedule. And I'm writing my own, original story too. Not enough time in the day. But this is what I've signed up for, thanks to the hubby. Please read and review. I know this is kind of silly right now, but it won't be the whole time. Am I getting the right mix of season two Wes with season four/five look of Wes? There's a reason, coming up soon.

Thanks go out to all that have reviewed. I've been trying to keep up with all the ones that I normally review. Not easy. Thanks go out to asdeed, Illyria639, Imzadi, tp96, pari106, SPIKEANDKELSIE, psychotic chaos, and everyone else who decided to jump aboard this fic. A little different from my others. I really needed to do something different to shake things up a bit.

Answers to questions:

Illyria63—I was wanting a change from Wes/Faith.

Imzadi—I'm not saying that it's your fault that Lindsey appeared. He just seemed to fit. I'll give you credit for the marriage thing with Kate though. Although don't hit me for Wes's immaturity.

Tp96—Don't stop reading. There will be a little flirting between Wes and Faith.

Par106—I miss Doyle, I miss S2 Wes, I miss Cordy, I'll stop now.

SPIKEANDKELSIE—Does this make it a little clearer?

Psychotic chaos—hey, I didn't say there wouldn't be problems though. Never in a fic of mine would that not happen.


	4. I'll Never Let You Go

Chapter Four – I'll Never Let You Go

The next couple of days went well for him, with Cordelia sleeping in the same bed as he, but with him only receiving cuddles. Wesley didn't know what he would do when Cordelia decided that they could be more intimate again. Taking advantage of her wouldn't be right. He just wished that the other Cordelia would come back and ask whatever questions she had on her agenda. He just knew it wouldn't be what he wanted to hear.

The agency obtained another case: breaking up an extortion ring. The police couldn'thandle it, so the person who was being extorted employed them to find out exactly who was responsible. Now Wesley felt at a loss. He knew demons, languages, everything about the supernatural world, but he didn't exactly know how to be a detective. Faking it would be in order.

"So Wes will get on that as soon as possible," Angel finished as the meeting they all were attending ended.

They all were together: Angel, Cordy, Gunn, Doyle, Faith, himself. He did have to admit that they made quite a team. They each contributed in their own way. While Cordy handled all the office matters, the rest had their contacts in the area when they needed to gather information. Wesley usually handled all the research, with everyone else pitching in as necessary. In his world, everyone but him hated research.

"I'm going to need some assistance," he asked politely.

Everyone scattered, even Cordelia. Nothing ever changes, he moaned.

So Wesley poked around until he was satisfied that he could find no more information on the Internetregarding some leads. Since Cordelia had gone out on an errand, he had the whole office to himself. It felt nice for once to have it quiet. He missed the times in the other dimension when it was quiet. It never seemed to be quiet here.

Brewing himself a pot of tea, he carefully brought it back to his desk. But he forgot the refill his sugar pot. Making his way back to the kitchen, he heard someone off in the distance. As he opened the door to the basement, he turned on the light to find Faith hiding on the steps. She turned her head forcefully away as he approached.

He had avoided her the most out of all the group. Was this Faith different than the other one? It made him wonder that if circumstances had been different for the girl if she would have turned out much like this one. Sure, this one was still brash and quick to anger, but he could see how much she cared about everyone. Where his Faith looked weary of life in general.

Slowly he stepped down to her level. "Faith? I'm sorry to intrude, but are you all right?" No time like the present to try and make amends.

"It's OK. Just fine," she snuffled.

Tears, Wesley exclaimed. Oh, how he hated tears. He never knew exactly how to deal with them. Should he tell her to stop this insane nonsense, or should he inquire about her problems?It couldn't be that bad.

"It seems that sitting in the dark in a quite dank basement crying would not make you look fine."

"Huh? Oh, you're trying to comfort me. That's a first."

Wesley practically hissed at her comment. Same old Faith. "I'll just go."

"No, wait. Wes, I'm just, sorry. I am in the crappiest mood is all. Stay."

She said she was sorry? That word wasn't in Faith's vocabulary. There was hope for the world yet. He parked himself on the step beside her, waiting for her to spill, as Cordelia always so aptly put it.

Nothing came out. The awkwardness permeated the air. "Faith, is there something that I could do?"

"No. This is so screwed. What am I gonna do?"

Great, she was in trouble yet again. He concluded that she must have done something against the law. Why else would she sulk in the basement? Hiding from Kate probably.

"Do about what?" he carefully asked her.

"You, I can't, you won't understand."

Maybe he could understand. He certainly hadn't understood her back in Sunnydale. It was a wonder what a year would do to a person's outlook on life. He no longer blamed Faith for his downfall. He blamed himself. It was entirely his fault that she was now in prison for murder.

"Faith, whatever has happened between us is in the past. I know it hasn't been easy."

Faith snorted in response. "You don't do easy." But neither did she.

"You have no idea. It's complicated to say the least."

"Where'd we go wrong, Wes? Why are we here right now?"

He hoped that this wasn't Cordelia's test. He wasn't ready for those questions. But those had been questions that had been rolling around in his head the last few months. He thought himself lucky to have found a few, loyal friends in his life that he could depend upon. What if that was disrupted? Would he fall apart? Depending on people hadn't been a problem before Sunnydale because he hadn't fallen into that trap. Being independent had been a good trait to have in his life. Now people depended on him. The pressure could be overwhelming sometimes.

"Very deep questions, Faith. Ones that I don't feel qualified to answer."

"You're the smartest person I know. If you don't know the answers, than who the hell does?"

Wesley sighed, raking his hand down his stubbly face. Shaving had become a thing of the past. The beard he was working on was fast filling in. He'd have to try that once he returned to his dimension. Saved time in the morning getting ready for work.

"I suspect," he started, "that we have been put here to do good. Fight the good fight. There's just so much evil out there in the world."

"Yeah," Faith agreed with him, looking down at the floor.

"Faith, what do you think that you did to me that was so wrong?"

What had this Faith done to him? Or had he done something to her? He would really like to know these secrets before continuing.

"I, uh, damn it. This is so not easy for me. OK, I know what I did was wrong. I knew you'd never forgive me for it. I hurt you bad."

She had hurt him badly. Deeply, worse than she would ever know. So why wasn't he frightened of her anymore? Maybe because there were more deadly, hideous things out there that went bump in the night that scared him worse. And that he had failed her in his quest to please people that didn't mean a thing to him.

"I must have contributed to this," he told her.

Faith shook her head no. "Don't you go on that guilt trip you're always pulling. Runnin' when things got too hot doesn't work. I know that now."

As Cordelia would say "Cryptic much?" He just wished she would come right out and say what she did to him.

"I'm surprised sometimes that you even want me around. You and Cordy seem so happy. Why would you risk that?"

Happy with Cordelia? He could be happy with her. She was a happy person to be with. She was intelligent, witty, charming, sexy, loyal, everything that he would ever want in a woman.

"You needed our help. Remember that we help the helpless."

"Yeah, right. Ever since someone bantered around that motto, it seems like that's been the mission. We really can do some good."

He wished that this Faith could exchange places with the other Faith. So that she could see how many people cared about her.

"That's what we do," he quickly agreed.

Pulling away the curtain of hair that had descended around her, she turned her head to look directly at him. She looked so lost, he suddenly thought. Just like she had in Sunnydale.

"What could be so terrible?" he started to ask.

"I'm pregnant."

"Oh dear," he replied, not sure what else to say. He had never been good in these types of situations.

"You were right. He up and left me. I messed up royally. I'm barely keepin' my head above water and now this? Sometimes I think someone's out to get me."

Good, it wasn't him. He didn't think that it had been. Nice to be sure. He did figure out that he and Cordelia had been in a relationship for a while. Was this dimension's Wesley as loyal as he was? Probably more so.

"We make mistakes occasionally. Look at me."

Faith laughed a little. "Hey, bud. Unless things have changed, you can't make this big a mistake. You tryin' to tell me something?"

"No, no, Faith. It's just, you try to make the best of what you have. And you have all of us to fall back on."

Faith dropped her head back to look at the ceiling. "You know how I feel about that."

"That you don't want to rely on anyone else."

Her head jerked back to his. Eureka, he concluded. This Faith wasn't so different from his. And this Faith started to get up from her perch, running from the conversation, just like his Faith had done so many times.

"I kinda have to go. Angel needs me to track something down. Um, can you keep a secret?"

"Sure. No problem. But you can't run for long, Faith. I'm here to help you."

Not we're here to help you. He purposely stated that he was here to help her. If he was able to gain her confidence, then he thought that maybe this Faith could make a life for herself. His Faith had already sealed her fate. The flicker of hope for his dimension's Faith had flared once more though.

Faith bent down and placed a kiss on his head, and then bounded up the stairs before he could respond. He really liked to think that he had made an impression on her. He would just have to wait and see.

* * *

After seeing to more research for their latest case, Wesley sat in his office and twirled a pencil between two fingers. He could read for hours in his world. But in this world, there wasn't any things to translate that took days. There wasn't any prophecies to go over, no demons to look up for Angel to vanquish. Good, hard information gathering was all this Wesley did. Sometimes it was nice for a break in the action. 

"Hey," Cordelia said quietly from the doorway.

"Oh, hello, my dear. Why are you here?"

Cordelia pointedly looked at her watch. "Uh, because, it's like really late and you hadn't come upstairs yet. Just checkin' to make sure that the books hadn't taken over like in that movie."

He had no earthly idea what movie to which she was referring. The cultural references sometimes flew directly over his head.

"No, I'm quite all right. Yourself?"

She came in and closed the door behind her. The lobby beyond her was dark and quiet. Apparently in all the time he was enclosed in his office, everyone else had gone home.

The look in Cordelia's eyes had turned sultry. She literally slinked her way over to him, showing her best attribute for him to enjoy. And enjoy it he did. He was a man, thank you very much. This Cordelia expected him to pay quite a bit of attention to her.

"How about you call it a night?" she purred to him as she bent over his desk.

"Oh my," he breathed as he took in the sight of her exposed cleavage.

Cordelia bit down on her bottom lip, making him want to repeat that process that she was now performing. "You're better, right? Head feels OK?"

So this was why she had kept her distance. She still thought he was injured. "Perfectly all right. Never better."

"Good," she said as her hands came up around his head. "I can never get enough of this."

Her lips were warm and inviting as she kissed him. He had been dreaming about this over the last couple of days, hoping that either the other Cordelia would retrieve him or this Cordelia would make up her mind. He had almost gone crazy with worry that he'd make the wrong decision.

Decisions were the last thing from his mind at the moment. Papers flew everywhere as Cordelia crawled over the desk to join him on his chair. She felt so right fitted against him. So warm and willing in his arms. This felt so good and so right, he loathed to leave it any time soon.

Slowly, he lowered his head to her neck, tasting her delectable scent on his tongue. Her hands shifted through his hair, sending shivers down his spine. Parting her top, he worshiped her wonderful breasts until she was panting. Since she had already scooted off the papers on his desk, he decided to be much more bold than he would ever be in his dimension and laid her down in front of him. Rising over her, he took her mouth with his again, wanting to feel all of her.

All his dreams had come true. Cordelia was a willing partner, he had friends, a good job. Nothing could go wrong. He savored this moment like he would no other memory. This Cordelia he could easily fall in love with, if he hadn't already. Leaving would not be easy. As a matter of fact, he didn't want to leave at all. He had been awarded a special prize. Cordelia Chase would be his, heart, body, mind and soul. As she screamed out his name and he soon followed, he whispered in her ear the words he had never told another living being. He loved her, deeply, passionately, immensely, with all his heart. And nothing would ruin that love.

TBC

Next: Wesley's world comes crashing down.

Author notes: So sappy. I'm on a sapfest. There shouldn't be too many more chapters to this fic. So stay tuned for more.

Thanks go out to pixie88, Imzadi, psychotic chaos and everyone else. I know I haven't posted as quickly on this fic. I'm hoping to speed it up though.

Pixie88-I needed a change from my Wes/Faith fics.

Imzadi—Yeah, no evil Lindsey here. I rewatched the episode with the evil hand. So much fun.

Psychotic chaos—not dead here; in a different reality; you see about the reference to snow.


	5. While You See A Chance

Chapter Five – While You See a Chance

"Oh, what have I done?" Cordelia whispered as she saw Wesley intertwined with the other dimension Cordy on the couch. Clothes were everywhere. Only one small throw covered the two from any prying eyes, which didn't leave all that much to the imagination. That wasn't her, she realized. This woman had totally different experiences than she had, wasn't as bitchy and self-centered as she could be. And Wesley had fallen for this one, hard. Did he have those kinds of feelings for her way back when? He must have, if only a little. She couldn't describe her feelings now, even watching with envious eyes as his hold tightened on her own mirror self. Cordelia had missed her opportunity with him back in Sunnydale.

How was she going to tell him? Tell him what he had to sacrifice? He wouldn't be pleased, would be angry and probably would never want to speak to her again. Cordelia was changing things, for the better. Because if he knew what was coming, he would agree what had to be done. But he could never change what was coming. It had all been foretold. The PTBs had sent her down here to bring Wesley back to the correct dimension. The other Wesley wasn't supposed to have survived that motorcycle accident in this dimension -- in the dimension with the human cast all the tragedies lined up would never happen if he were dead. In her dimension, the dimension with things that go bump in the night, they needed him. Now she would have to fix the mistake. And break Wesley's heart to do it.

Soon after the other Cordy left the office, she watched as Wesley got dressed again. He had matured so much over the years, but she missed this Wes's personality. The Wes that could spar with her, make her laugh, throw himself in front of a demon to save her. Her Wesley, the present day Wesley, was a bitter, damaged man who didn't care whether he lived or died. She bit down a sob because she knew no matter what she did, it would happen. He would become embittered and sullen. He would die a broken-hearted man. Nothing could change that. But she could fix this dimension. Maybe even make the Wesley that belonged here happy.

"Wesley?" she whispered.

He had his back turned, buttoning up his shirt.

"Oh, oh. I didn't know that you were standing there." He blushed slightly as he turned to face her.

She couldn't help but stare. He was always so cute and shy around her before. What she didn't understand was how his appearance had changed. The man aged well. But he still had the memories of the early Wes. Strange. Older looking Wesley with the memories of a younger, more carefree Wes.

"Yes. I need to talk to you."

"I suppose that would be necessary. I want to stay here. You were going to give me a choice. That's my answer."

Her heart broke. She would love for him to stay there, to be loved by her other self. But he couldn't. He had too important a role to play, in life and in death.

"That's not the choice I can give you."

His face darkened. "What do you mean?"

"You weren't supposed to be here. Something went wrong with the timeline. For some wacky reason, the two events happening at the same time made this dimension's Wes switch places with you. He wasn't going to live through it. So now I have to clean up the mess."

"You must be joking. You would take away this man from these people, from your other self, just to fix the mistake of some higher power with nothing better to do than manipulate people's lives on a daily basis?"

Cordelia sighed and shut her eyes. "No. I can't undo the other Wesley not dying. It's done and over with. What I can do is fix it. You have to switch back with the other Wes. But before that, you have to make a choice."

Wesley crossed his arms over his chest. Cordelia could see his forearms bunch up with tension, jaw set tight, just like he always did when he wasn't pleased with her. Now that he had the muscle to actually back it up, it worried her a little. She didn't want this conversation ending badly.

"You have to go back. Please let me show you why."

"No, stop. I don't want to know what will happen. Don't you understand? I'm happy for once in my life. And you want to take all of that away?"

"It's not my choice," she told him, voice getting a little louder.

"No, it's just the Powers that Bugger us every time. Is that it?"

Getting closer, she touched his arm, hoping that he would release some of that tension and actually talk to her, use that big brain of his.

"Damn it, Wes. If you don't go back to your dimension, everything will fall apart. Everyone will die there, I guarantee it."

"You do not know that," he ground out, wrenching out of her grasp.

"I do," she replied back. "Unfortunately, I do. Do you think that this is fun for me? To watch my friends be treated this way?"

"Not particularly fun, I can assume. But you don't understand."

"I do, Wes. Believe me, I do. Watch," she implored him to do.

Wesley watched as the scenes unfolded before his eyes. If he didn't go back, his other self would die in a couple of months from a gunshot wound. Then Cordelia would be trapped in Pylea, an alternate hell dimension. And Angel would lose his soul.

"If I stay?" he croaked out.

She flashed those images in his brain. These were even worse, she thought. If he stayed, there wouldn't be many of them left to greet the new year. She had to get it through his thick skull that he wasn't supposed to be here.

"Angel, Gunn, Kate, Lindsey, Faith. They all will die here if I don't leave?"

"You can stop all of this. Just come back with me."

Wesley wandered around the office, picking up objects here and there, but not answering her. Even the phone ringing in the outer offices didn't disturb his musings. He was thinking it out logically. That was her Wes. He would come to the right decision.

"I don't believe you," he finally spoke up.

"You dumbass. Haven't you listened to anything that I've said? I'm not joking. I'm not some evil being trying to take over the world, or at least right now I'm not. I'm Cordelia, guide from the PTBs. I earned this gig. Now you need to listen."

By the time her little lecture was done, her voice went up a million octaves. She hated getting on his case. She knew he was hurting. But damn it, he had to listen. Or she would have to take drastic measures.

"Why haven't you just taken me back?"

Oh, so now he's using that big ole' brain of his? "There's something else you need to do."

"Wonderful. Not only are you going to make me leave the one place I've ever been happy, I have to make some earth-shattering choice."

It hurt her that he was never happy in his dimension. The theme of family ran around in her brain. She thought that they were family, for better or for worse. She should just come out and tell him. Instead of an eye-for-an-eye, it had to be a soul for a soul. Now thatthe other Wesleystill existed on this plane, someone else would have to take his place in death.

"You have to let her die, be there when she dies," came out of her mouth as the door opened to his office.

"Wes. We have a big problem," Doyle panted out. "Wilson. I don't know how to tell you this."

Doyle couldn't see her. Wesley still looked at her, wheels turning in his brain.

"Wes, man. Are ya listenin'?"

"Ah, yes. Doyle, what is it? Something about Wilson you wanted to tell me?"

"He somehow took Cordelia. He has her, and if you don't meet with him, he'll kill her."

A look of pure anger crossed Wesley's face right then. Cordelia literally took a step back.

"You knew," he growled out.

Doyle looked a little perplexed but answered him. "Just found out. He called here. I was gonna call Kate too."

"Go. Call Kate. Get her to wherever Wilson said to meet."

Doyle immediately followed the man's orders.

"Again, I repeat. You knew."

There was no mistaking that look of contempt on his face. "Yeah, I knew. What I was just trying to tell you."

"I am not letting her die. Not in a thousand years. I refuse to do that. Give them me instead." Wesley gathered up his jacket to leave.

"I can't give them you. If you don't let her die, Wilson will come here and take out almost everyone else. All that'll be left will be you and Cordelia. You think that she can live with the fact that you saved her to have the rest of your friends die?"

Wesley grabbed her, swinging her around to go nose-to-nose with her. Now this was the most recent Wes in her memory. The Wesley before Pylea would never dream of manhandling her.

"Show me. Show me what will happen in this dimension if I leave and I let her die," he choked out.

And she did. She just wanted to take him in her arms and tell him to let it all out. His fallen, dejected look made him look decades older than he really was. Her funeral, his depression, his dispair was apparent even to her. He had let his girl die to save the others.

"I'm so sorry, Wes. I tried to fix it the best I could. This is the only way." Her hand came up to caress his cheek. It was too cold to the touch. She was so glad that she had made herself corporeal this time. He needed her comfort to get through this.

"Why?" he wanted to know.

"I wish I knew. Something went wrong, somewhere in the world."

"I can't," he cried.

"You will."

"What will happen, once I go back to my dimension?"

His blue eyes searched her for any hidden meaning. Did he really want to know how retched his life would become in such a few short years? She had to show him, that he finally made a difference in the end. So she closed her eyes, and pulled him forward to lay his head on her shoulder. Then she showed him, all of it.

She heard a few intakes of breath and even a slight gasp coming out of him. Near the end, his grip that he had around her back tightened. Rubbing his back, she tried the best she could to soothe him.

"No," he quietly said. "Why should I go back?"

"Because it's the right thing to do. That's your choice. Either to do the right thing, or not. You can make a difference," she told him as she stroked his head.

He pulled his head back to look down at her. The unshed tears in his eyes said it all. He had made his decision. It was only his to make.

"I need to go to her. To stop this Wilson from hurting anyone else. I don't want her to die alone, like I did."

"You won't die alone. I won't let that happen. Remember that, OK," she said as her own tears started to escape, although she knew he wouldn't remember anything of his time in this dimension.

He carefully set her away from him and headed out the door. Placing her hand over her mouth, Cordelia tried to hold in the sobs that wanted to explode. She had hurt him, deeply.

* * *

In the fading twilight of the day, Wesley raced to the dirt road high up on the hillside. It had gotten extremely cold for Southern California. The clouds that overhung the sky looked like they did back in England when it was going to snow. He would hate to confront this Wilson character in the pouring rain. 

Pulling his vehicle to the side of the road, he spotted another abandoned one up ahead. It was Cordelia's. How had he gotten to her in such a short time? He had only been speaking with the other Cordelia for mere minutes he thought before the phone call. He blamed himself for letting her out of his sight, letting her leave the office.

Climbing out of his SUV, he inspected her car, but found no trace of her or Wilson. Screams off in the distance scared him down to his bones. He would still hurry even though he knew the outcome. Cordy had to know that he loved her, just so he could tell her this one time how much he did.

Running along a trail, Wesley stumbled several times, but kept up the brutal pace for as long as he could. He could barely see the ground as he ran blindly, not knowing what he would encounter. The rain that he thought would come didn't. It had started to snow. In Southern California, it had started to snow. It had been so long since he'd seen a real snowfall.

The screams and muffled voices were louder the further up the trail he traveled. Bursting into a clearing, he finally saw what his heart had dreaded. Wilson held a knife to Cordy's throat, ready to slash it at the least provocation.

"Wilson, no. This is between you and me."

The man looked maniacal. If this was the evil that this dimension faced, he would take a demon any day. His wild hair stood on end, his clothes dirty and disheveled, and the look in his eyes definitely not sane.

"Took you long enough, Englishman. Want your girl?"

"Just let her go," he replied in a calm voice.

"Not yet. I want my girl. She's mine."

"We could talk about this."

"No more talking," Wilson yelled back, pressing the point of the knife into Cordy's throat.

Wesley had tried avoiding looking into her eyes, but couldn't any longer. She was scared. He had never seen Cordelia look that scared, even with all the demons and evil that they fought. This Cordelia had never seen that kind of terrible evil. Now she had. She wouldn't survive to contemplate what she had gone through.

"I can't give you the girl. You know that."

The slight nod from Cordelia said it all. She knew the girl that Wilson had kidnapped must be protected at all costs.

"I'm gonna enjoy slicing up your girlfriend. And when I'm done with her, I'll have my fun with the rest of your friends."

"I love you, Cordelia," he wanted her to know before Wilson did what he was supposed to do.

"I love you too," she echoed through her tears.

Before Wesley could take a step forward, Wilson moved the knife and plunged it into her stomach, twisting to create more damage. Pulling it out, he flung her to the ground like she was a piece of garbage to be discarded.

"You bastard," Wesley hissed as he pulled his gun from out of its hiding place.

Raising the weapon, he pulled the trigger until he emptied it of its bullets. Wilson didn't even get a chance to move from the spot where he had held Cordelia. Certain that the evil thing was dead, Wesley raced to Cordelia. Picking her up and cradling her, he stroked her hair gently as she lay in his arms bleeding to death.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

"Nothing to be sorry for, my love. My fault. This is all my fault," he choked out.

"Not your fault. Never your fault. Handsome man saved me from the monster."

"I can't live without you. Please don't leave me," he cried as he watched the light go out of her eyes.

"I love you. Take care of the others," she said with her last breath.

Wesley held Cordelia for some time, rocking her gently back and forth. The snow that had started was falling in earnest now, covering her body with downy, white flakes.

"Wesley. We have to go," Cordelia told him.

"No. I can't leave her," he said through clenched teeth.

"They're coming. The police. I need to put the other Wes here. He'll have all the memories that you have. He loved her too."

Looking up at her, he felt nothing but rage for Cordelia. She had caused this to happen. The one time in his life that he was happy, she took it all away from him. The sirens off in the distance startled him out of his silent vigil. She was dead. He would never forgive himself for getting her killed.

The hand on his shoulder brought him up out of his crouch on the ground. Gently, he laid Cordelia's body on the snow-covered ground. Brushing her hair off her face, he placed a small kiss on her lips before turning to his Cordelia. His heart, his insides were made of ice right then, just like the flakes floating around his head. It just might bury him if he let it.

Gradually, the other Wesley, the one that belonged in this dimension, appeared, holding his Cordelia. Looking around, all Wesley could see was the destruction of a precious life, the blood splattered in the snow where his love lay.

"He'll be OK," Cordelia whispered to him.

"Maybe. But will I?"

* * *

Wesley felt the hard, cold asphalt underneath his hip. He was lying on his side, helmet obstructing his view of the scene. Slowly, he sat up and unhooked his chin strap, ripping the helmet off his head. 

"Wes?" Cordelia croaked out.

"Oh, good God. What have I done?"

Turning, he saw Cordelia struggling to sit up. The motorcycle lay off in the distance, back wheel still spinning.

"I'm OK," he heard her muffled reply. "Damn pink helmet." She finally was able to unsnap the chinstrap and pulled it off. "Where'd you get your driver's license? Toys R Us?"

She was annoyed but not hurt seriously. Wesley shut off the motorcycle's engine and went to sit beside Cordelia. Her hair stood on end, her makeup looked a little smudged, but all in all, she was alive and well.

"Are you sure you're all right?"

"Oh, I look like hell, don't I?" she told him as he watched a police car coming up the block.

"No, you look perfectly lovely."

"Dumbass. You're just sayin' that because when Angel hears about our little encounter with the pavement, he'll kick your ass into next Tuesday."

"I didn't mean …," Wesley started.

"You were distracted, weren't you? Thinking too hard with that big old brain of yours. No more caffeine for you. I'm weaning you off, starting tomorrow."

He just smiled at her ranting. He had thought for one moment that he had lost one of his best friends. He'd have no one to talk with anymore if Cordelia wasn't around. Angel wasn't much of a conversationalist, and Gunn liked to argue with him too much. His smile widened as her ranting continued.

"Hey, this is so not funny. Maybe you can prop that cycle of yours up. See if the mirror is crushed. I can fix my makeup really quickly," Cordelia asked him.

* * *

May 2004 

"Hey," Cordelia called out to him.

The pain receded until it dissipated into nothing. His vision blurred for an instant until he could only see Illyria and her illusion of Fred. Then her face faded away just before he felt this pop. He was no longer in his body. Looking down at his body, he felt a familiar hand on his arm. As he turned his head, he took in the beautiful sight beside him.

"I told you that I wouldn't let you die alone."

"I remember," he said with wonder. "Everything."

Gathering her in his arms, Wesley sighed into her hair. Everything came back to him. His love for Cordelia, his traveling to another dimension, having to sacrifice her for the greater good. It didn't lessen his feelings for Fred, but she was gone now because of Illyria. Too many memories sweet and harsh raced through his brain.

"I'm sorry," she told him as she wrapped her arms tight around his middle.

He watched as Illyria rose from the floor, pulled her fist back and changed into her blue form. Vail's face disintegrated as her fist connected. She had destroyed Vail, something which he failed at doing. But it was all because of him.

The battle in the alleyway was over so fast, Wesley didn't know what to think. One moment Angel and the others were battling hundreds of demons, the next Illyria had obliterated them all. She wished to do more violence, he had heard her say. That was the understatement of the century. She grieved for him so much, she destroyed hundreds of demons in his name. His friends were safe, for now. Illyria had also saved Gunn from dying too, for which Wesley was eternally grateful.

All the old hatred, the old fears, the old doubts were lifted from his soul once he died. He watched as the others gathered around his body and then his grave. He saw the utter grief on Angel's face as he placed a few flowers on his grave.

"I never meant to cause them such grief," Wesley stated as he stood beside Cordelia in the graveyard.

"You didn't. They all loved you. I love you, you big dork."

Cordelia laid her head on his shoulder, and pulled him close with her arm wrapped around his waist. It felt natural, like that arm should always be there. As he watched the scene, Cordelia waved her arms and it began to snow. Just like it had when her other self died, just like when he wrecked his motorcycle that fateful early morning.

"You took away my memories of that time."

Wesley remembered how devastated he was when he found out that Angel had stolen their memories of Connor. But now, standing where he was, it didn't matter that Cordelia had taken the quite pleasant memory away. It was good that she did. Things would have changed if he had remembered all that had happened between them.

"I couldn't have you remembering. Not the way it works, mister."

"No, I don't suppose it would."

Cordelia had swiped at her face quickly, but he had seen it. She had started to cry and didn't want him to see it. He would ignore it for now. He was too emotional right then to fault her for the sentiment.

"I need to show you something."

With the wave of a hand, the scene before them changed. Gone were his friends. Replaced with it was the alternate dimension that he had visited so long ago. His other self was alive and happy. A baby bounced on his knee.

"When is this happening? What year?"

"It's 2009. Cute kid," Cordelia declared.

Another child raced through the Hyperion, with Angel hot on his heels. The child squealed when Angel caught him.

"If you make him hyper, I swear Angel, he is sleeping in your room tonight. Faith will have a fit. I'm just warning you."

"Yeah, Faith is all talk and no bite," Angel responded, swinging the child around in his arms.

"You will suffer the consequences," the other Wesley stiffly replied and turned his attention back to the baby.

His arms moved around the child, a girl, to pick her up into a hug. The girl laughed a little and started to pull his hair. The other Wesley gave her raspberries until she giggled.

"Oh, you two are so busted. Wes, didn't I tell you to put them to bed?"

The other Wesley sputtered, and then groaned as Faith approached from the door.

"I think that we are truly and thoroughly busted, my dear."

The girl giggled again in response.

"Mommy, mommy, mommy. Uncle Angel was just playin' the best game."

"Oh, I'll bet. Hyping him up so he won't go to sleep," Faith growled to Angel.

"He'll be fine," Angel assured her. "I think. Come on, tiger. Let's brush your teeth."

Angel started to lead the boy upstairs. The baby girl grumped and held out her arms for Angel to take her. He complied and placed a loving kiss on her round cheek.

"You know, you never can have kids of your own, Angel. Mine might get jealous. You'll be Uncle Angel forever," Faith informed him.

"I don't need any," Angel called from the stairs. "I can just hand them back to their parents whenever they get out of hand. Or whenever someone's diaper needs to be changed. You don't need a diaper change, do you?" he asked the girl as they headed up the stairs.

Wesley watched the scene with growing trepidation. Was something terrible going to happen? Was Cordelia showing him this so he'd know exactly what he had missed?

"So, we're all alone," Faith purred as she walked over to the other Wesley.

"Oh, dear God. Don't tell me," Wesley started.

"Shh," Cordelia shushed him.

"I should get some more work done," the other Wesley countered.

Faith pinned him to the sofa quickly. "Nuh uh. Not gonna play that game with me, my jerk of a husband."

Oh, dear God was the understatement of the year. He and Faith were married? Then the baby must be ….

"They're happy," he finally concluded.

"Yes, finally. Took a lot of effort. You, that other guy, were so depressed for so long. Faith having her son brought you out of it. You helped her out, and then it turned to love. It wasn't perfect or easy. But he's happy now."

"I see now. What I had to give up, for all of them. Thank you."

"I wish," Cordelia started but couldn't continue. Her eyes teared over. She visibly swallowed.

Turning, he took her in his arms and held on tight. "It's OK, love."

"I couldn't even be happy in this dimension. Just not meant to be."

Wesley released her slightly and looked down into her expressive eyes. Her mouth quirked up into a half-smile. Her watery eyes made her look that more attractive and adorable to him. Lowering his head, he placed a soft kiss on her lips. She sighed as he pulled back.

"Happy now?" he asked.

"A little better. Now that I know you're gonna be OK. You are, right?"

He had gone through so much in the last couple of years, how could he be all right? Maybe with Cordelia by his side, he could work towards being happier. He missed his friends immensely; he missed Fred deeply. But he had Cordelia.

A bright smile lit up the area around her. Slowly, the Hyperion faded to a porch swing out in the country. He breathed in the clean, cool air, watched the breeze ruffle the flowers off in the distance. He could smell the tang of orange blossoms. Was this heaven?

"So?" he asked the woman sitting next to him. "What shall I do next?"

"Hmm. Let me see. You can relax and read. Or you can take a walk. Maybe take a nap."

Wesley almost groaned. He'd be bored within a week with nothing to do but relax. Something to keep him busy was in order. Cordelia's hand crept up and took his in, squeezing tightly.

"I know. Music."

Suddenly, music started to play. How was Cordelia able to do that? She pulled him up and wrapped her arms around him, swaying with the soft beat.

"Don't worry. Nothing too fast. I'm afraid you might pull a muscle or something."

"I was quite the spaz, now wasn't I?"

"Spaz doesn't even start to explain it."

They both moved slowly as the song played out. Pulling her head to his chest, he started to sing along quietly. He heard a snort come out.

"I'm not that bad."

"At least it isn't 'We Are the Champions'," Cordelia groaned.

"Or Angel," they both said at the same time.

"Sometimes I think that he wanted to be that bad for the hell of it," Wesley explained to her.

"No, he was just that bad."

They both laughed a little and settled into another dance.

"Do you hate me?" Cordelia quietly asked him.

"No. You were doing what you thought you had to do. But there is one thing I would like you to promise me, Cordelia?"

She looked up into his eyes, worry etched across her face. "What?"

"Don't ever leave me again."

Her big smile made his heart melt. Yes, they did have their issues. Well, lots of issues. But they would have time to work through them. This time he wouldn't hold things back. Talking to her, having her be near him was enough.

"And one other thing? Would there be any work for an ex-rogue demon hunter watcher? Because relaxing is just not my bailiwick."

"OK? What the hell is a bailiwick? No one has ever explained that one to me. And yes, I bet I could scare some freelance work up for you. No pay though. Those bastards sure can be cheap. You won't believe how much they cut my clothes budget. Makes a girl wanna cry."

"You need clothes in this dimension?"

Cordelia hit him on the arm. "Perv. Yes, I need clothes."

Wesley grinned at her. That really wasn't what he meant, but he'd take the joke anyway.

"Well, I just thought that maybe you could go without clothes."

The hands went on the hips then. Her smile turned to her angry face.

"I mean, couldn't you just conjure up your wardrobe?"

"Nice save, dumbass. Maybe I should conjure up a wardrobe for you."

With the snap of her fingers, Wesley had on shorts and a t-shirt.

"Oh, geez. Get a tan. You're blinding me."

Wesley at one point had a sort of tan, when he was working for himself. But working in an office surrounded by books, one didn't have the time to 'get a tan' as Cordelia put it. Besides, he was dead.

"I don't think that I'll need one of those here."

"Suit yourself."

Cordelia turned to walk down the stairs to the grass. The blue, blue sky looked wonderful and inviting.

"Bet you can't catch me?" Cordelia challenged him, taking off like a shot.

So this was why she had gotten him out of the clothes that he had died in. She wanted him to be a little more normal. Racing her down the stairs, he finally caught up with her half way across the yard. She squealed like a little girl as he tugged at her dress. Stumbling, he took them both down to the ground.

"No fair," she panted out.

"It was entirely fair, Cordelia."

"I missed that. You saying my name."

"I missed you. Everything about you."

Wesley rolled off of her to lie down and look up at the lazy clouds floating by. Cordelia settled down next to him, cuddling in to his side.

"You're happy now?" Cordelia asked.

"I'm . . . ," Wesley started.

Was he happy? He was dead, for goodness sake. Somewhere he knew this was what would happen when he entered Vail's mansion. The memories of his other self though gave him a little hope.

"Content. The last year has been a challenge. So much has happened. Fred dying, Angel erasing our memories, not confiding in us about his plan. It has been hard."

"Hard? That's all you can say? It would have killed a lesser man."

She had propped herself up on one elbow, looking down at him.

"It did kill me, Cordy. Slowly, it did. The knife, it released me."

"Don't make me cry again, damn it. I don't cry in front of people."

He could see her effort at holding in her emotions, but she wasn't managing too well. Brushing her hair off of her face, he wondered how he could be happy ever again. Her head descended slowly to place a small kiss on his lips. Before he knew it, she tilted her head just slightly, rubbing her soft mouth against his. He sighed out his relief. She finally broke off the kiss, putting her forehead against his to gain some semblance of control.

"Cordelia?" he whispered.

"I'm sorry. I know that I shouldn't have. I know that you love Fred. She's the one."

"She's not here. You are. And I've always loved you, Cordy. You know that."

"But it's not the same. It will never be the same."

Wesley knew it would never be the same with Cordelia. Fred was a separate part of his life. Now, in his new state, Cordelia could mean more to him.

"I wouldn't want it to be the same. You're Cordelia Chase."

"And don't you forget it, buster." And his cold heart melted just a little bit further.

The End

Thanks to all for reading my little fic. It was fun and a great change from my others. Hope you all enjoyed it. Thanks go out to everyone who took the time to read. I had fun. I hope you did too.


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